I wondered why she was here,in the exam hall,of all places.At Seventy-seven years,she was the last sight I expected here,inspite of the fact that she is my own Dad's,own Auntyji.There she was,right in midst of several other candidates,upright on a chair,pencil in hand,looking thoughtfully into the question paper.
It being an objective choice,fixed time exam,I didn't have much time to waste,pondering over why she was writing the exam along with me.Ignoring the absurdity of the situation,I buried my head into the question paper,picking my choice among the various answer choices,and darkening the appropriate ovals on the pink colored OMR Sheet with my pencil,nervous about whether I would end up gaining or loosing a mark with each darkened oval.
Meanwhile,I stole a sideways glance at Auntyji,out of curiosity to see what she was doing .Her posture had changed now.Sitting sideways on her chair,hunchbacked,she now had slumped,her head touching her knees.I could sense what was coming up next.She was about to get one of her bouts of asthma.And she did.
Auntyji started taking in deep breaths,each breath emitting a sound,which appeared something like a cross between the bay of a sheep and the croak of frog.Bay-croaking , let me call it .It came forth,in frequencies of such amazing regularity.Two breaths in a second,one hundred and twenty in a minute,seven thousand two hundred in an hour.Nothing more,nothing less.
You had to be either Superman or RajniKanth to concentrate on your examination in the midst of such unadulterated pandemonium.Sadly,I am,and was,neither.
Things where fast driving me to exasperation.The questions were'nt too tough and I was positively confident that I would crack the exam.But right then Auntyji had materialized,threatening to blow the whole exam with her asthmatic exploits.I just could not get myself to focus.
But what bemused me more was how unaffected the others in the room were.They seemed to have earholes plugged with cotton chunks.I turned and peeked into the ear of the girl next to me.Surprisingly,there was no cotton.
The bell rang. End of Session One.
There was a brief interval,and then my Mom came running,holding a glass containing a plain honey colored liquid,which looked and tasted like apple juice;the kind that we often get at HPMC centres in railway stations.But strangely , she referred to it as Pineapple-juice .Auntyji was offered just a quarter glass of the same.I felt a pity for Aunty,and wondered whether Mom's senses of hospitality had left her,just like the ability to distinguish apple juice from pineapple juice had deserted her,a few minutes back.
Things were already happening too topsy-turvy from my perspective.I emptied the glass in a single draught and decided to keep my mouth shut.
Sure that I had messed up the first half,I glared fierily at Auntyji.She was slumped in her seat.The asthmatic bouts seemed to have subsided.The quarter glass of the pinapple-juice-which-looked-like-apple-juice stayed there,untouched on her table.
The bell rang again. Session Two.
The exam restarted in a few minutes.Five minutes went on peacefully,and I felt I was getting into my groove again.Right then,the sheep bayed again,accompanied by the frog who croaked in unison.The last reserve of patience exhausted,I got up,shouted,and lunged menacingly at Auntyji,determined to get her out of the hall.I guess I tripped then, and fell down in the process .
Startled awake,lying flat on my back,I waited for my eyes to get accustomed to the darkness.As the pupils dilated,I first saw the ceiling fan,rotating laboriously overhead.The flourescent time-piece needles read Three A.M , while the alarm needle threateningly pointed to Five. Auntyji and the exam,it had all been in dreamland.
But something was still wrong.Still out of place.Yes,I realized -the bay-croaking.It was still there.Loud,rhythmic and unbearable. Confused,helpless and groggy-eyed I turned three-hundred-sixty degrees,my back facing the ceiling fan and buried my face in the pillow.The sound would'nt disappear.
Summoning all my consciousness,I got onto my feet and looked around.Right then I figured it out.Arun,my room-mate was lying beside my bed,covered head to toe in a black blanket,totally inconspicous,sleeping peacefully,snoring away to his heart's content.I picked up my bedsheet,the time-piece,my dishevelled clothes and trudged off to the next room.
For the next two hours,till the alarm went off,I slept in peace,neither seeing Auntyji nor hearing her bay-croaking.
